The Interview
by NightRanger85
Summary: Believe it or not, the prologue is a college entrance essay. The student gets a recommendation from an unlikely source. Now what has he gotten into. Self-Insert. PG for brief language. May go up
1. The Interview

"You want me to describe Kevin Chin?" I nodded, hoping to get a clearer response than my previous interviewee. Although I will forego a full description, my current interviewee was about medium height, with short strawberry blond hair. "Well, the first thing I can tell you about him is that he's an artist. Always sticking his nose into mangas and books and things like that. Secondly, he's a bit of an intro. You're not going to get too much out of him in a conversation." "Go on," I said, shifting in the office chair. "I mean, I have seen him draw, and he's quite good at it. Certainly not a master, but he is still young." I leaned back, sighing. "Another art nerd?" "Oh no, sir! He's just.restrained, that's all. He doesn't get out all too much. He used to play football or soccer as you Americans call it. He also told me he takes an interest in how to use a sword, although he's not very good at it." "I see." As I jotted all of this down, the girl spoke again. "One thing I found interesting, is that he draws more at night than during the day." I looked up at her. "Why would that catch your attention?" "I can sympathize with him, as I'm something of a night owl myself. Other than that, I don't think I can tell you much more." "Very well," I said, standing up. "It's been nice talking to you again." "The same to you too, sir," said the girl, also getting up and making to leave. "Have a good evening, Miss Victoria." 


	2. The Devil's Lair sort of

The Interview  
Chap. I  
The Devil's Lair (sort of)  
  
Author's Note: To humor both myself and my reviewers, I have decided to continue "The Interview". To keep with the storyline from my original essay, this story will be a self-insert (my first, so please be gentle). If you don't like self-inserts, I understand your views.  
  
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Hellsing, or anything related to Hellsing. But I do like vampires!  
  
The Journal of Kevin Chin September 21, 2006; 7:21 PM  
  
I cursed as I stumbled in yet another water-filled pothole on my way to my new job because I couldn't afford a taxi or a bus ticket. I had just moved into a new apartment, admittedly my fourth since I arrived in August, something about the neighbors complaining about my working up late at night (I can't see without lights!). Anyway, the bills were racking up and I haven't been able to keep anything close to a constant job; up until a few days ago, I haven't really had much hope of getting a job. Then I received a weird letter in the mail just last Friday, saying I was granted an interview by a "Hellsing Institution". I had never really heard of the Hellsing Inst. Other than that news report a few years back on a supposed terrorist attack mounted by said Institution; suffice it to say I really didn't believe it. Anyways, here I am, writing in this journal as I walk through London showers to a dreary mansion on the middle of Old London. I can only hope that I make a good impression. Sometimes, I hate being a college intern.  
  
7:57 PM  
  
I am now sitting inside the headquarters of the Hellsing Inst. I was greeted by a man who looked in his mid-to-late forties; I don't know his true age. The man introduced himself as Walter Kum Donne, and escorted me to a waiting area outside Sir Hellsing's office. Seeing as I had some time on my hands, I took stock in my appearance: my shoes and pants soaked, my tie looking like a week-old Fruit Roll-Up, suit stained with gunk from the gutters, all in all I looked like shit; a real good way of making a first impression. I hear some footsteps from behind the doors t Sir Hellsing's office. I'd better close up for now.  
  
8:32 PM  
  
I don't think I had ever felt insecure as I had felt within the last forty- or-so minutes. Truth be told, when I had entered the office, I had expected a man to be sitting at the Big Desk; to my surprise, I find Sir Hellsing is FEMALE. I thought that she should have taken the title 'Lady', but the look on her face told me that she might castrate me or something if I so much as broached the subject; her eyes seemed to burn right through me as if I were little more than a bug. She questioned me on my background, schooling, upbringing, etc; essentially anything I'd expect to be asked by a curious employer, although she kept an icy expression on her face the entire time. Then she asked me something completely unexpected. "I have been told that you are a swordsman, are you not?" To put it bluntly, a person would have to have been deaf, dumb, and blind in order not to see the surprised expression on my face. "Well," I said, "I have taken an interest in bladed combat." To say I was sweating bullets was an understatement. Why did she want to know if I practice the sword arts or not? In a tone that brooked no argument, she told me: "What I am about to tell you will not leave this manor, am I clear?" She continued after my nod. "The Hellsing Institution hunts down the Children of the Night in the name of God and the Queen. Recently, our agents have been having a problem with an agent of our Catholic counterpart stationed in the Vatican." "You expect me to fight the VATICAN?" I blurted out, both incredulous and horrified at what it could mean for my future. "I expected you to have a question like that. The answer is no. You are to be a bodyguard for our agents, your Jewish background notwithstanding. Actually, I believe you are fortunate for being a Hebrew, considering the agents you'll be working with." I could only swallow. We talked for a few more minutes before she bade me good day and told me she would consider my position of employ. I'm going to have to say that if this is what everyone has to go through for employment, I'd rather be self-employed. 


	3. The New Digs

The Interview  
Chap. II  
The New Digs  
  
Author's Note: I may be switching back and forth between a Journal format and a Narrative format.  
  
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Hellsing, or anything related to Hellsing.  
  
September 22nd was proving to be an interesting day for one Kevin Chin. He had retuned to the dorm only to find that he had been evicted for a fourth time and that he was to move out by noon. As soon as he woke up, he had left to rent a cart. By the time had had returned, all of his belongings were gone, with a note on the door saying that they had been relocated to the Hellsing Manor and that he was employed as of midnight the previous night. Shrugging and sighing, he left to return the cart and pay the rental fee, which left him with an empty wallet. 'Oh well,' he thought. 'I might as well report in. At least it's sunny today.'  
  
It took an hour to walk to the Hellsing Manor, with Kevin going at a leisurely pace, admiring the various examples of Old-World architecture and public monuments along the way. Finally reaching the gate, he checked in with the sentry and entered through the gates and walked up the long driveway. 'If only I could afford Underground tickets,' he thought to himself, minding his sore legs and feet. Then a sound came from his midsection. 'Screw that. I wish I could afford something to eat.' [I'm sure you could afford to give a meal, young one.] "Wha? Who's there?" His eye became wide as the echo of the voice reverberated through his mind. "H-Hello? Is anyone there?"  
  
In a large office, Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing scolded her servant. "Alucard, stop torturing your bodyguard," she said, putting emphasis on the 'your'. "I don't want an insane swordsman on my hands." [I am surprised that he hasn't made the connection yet, Master.] "Just because I happen to be of the Hellsing family doesn't mean he knows that he'll be working with a pair of vampires," she countered as the familiar crimson-clad figure exited from the shadows. "He'll have to get used to it, then." "Your near- spotless combat record and loyalty to this Institution notwithstanding," Integra said, not looking up from her paperwork, "I will not allow you to jeopardize young Victoria's future in this manner, considering that you still have yet to teach her the finer points of vampirism; she barely survived her last encounter with Father Anderson, or didn't you know that?" The No Life King's trademark smirk never left his face.  
  
"Am I going crazy, Mr. Donne?" The aged butler looked at Kevin, who was well on the way to a nervous fit. "No. It was probably our prime operative having his fun again. And please, call me Walter." "Uh, sure Walter." Walter smiled as he led the 21-year-old down the long hallway. "Don't worry, lad. He spoke in your mind, didn't he?" "H-How did you know?" Kevin asked, still skittish. "He's done that with every guest or new member of Hellsing at some point. You'll get used to it, lad." "Oh, okay." They walked in silence until they reached their destination. "Here you are, lad," said Walter, opening the door. "Holy . . . it's a friggin' house!" "Actually," said Walter, "this is one of the smaller suites. I assume this suits your needs." "B-But how will I pay for this?" "Didn't you read the letter?" said Walter in an amused tone. "You would be provided with full room and board, with the only 'catch', as you Americans put it, is that you are to follow the schedule Sir Integra will give you. Don't worry lad, I believe in you." Then he took out a pocket watch. "Hmm. Look at the time. I must be going, Mr. Chin. If you require anything, just push this button," he said, pointing to the intercom. "Thank you, Walter. Oh, and one thing." "Yes?" "If I can call you Walter, can you just call me Kevin, or Kev?" Walter hesitated for a moment. "Of course, Kevin." "Thanks."  
  
It was a little after six-thirty in the morning when one Seras Victoria wandered up the stairs. Despite being a vampire she still appreciated, if not preferred, a good meal that didn't involve fresh hemoglobin mixed with plasma and anticoagulants. A heavenly smell of pasta and Chinese cooking drew her onwards. As she neared the source of the smell, one of the smaller apartments on the third floor, she heard a loud 'thud' from behind the closed door, followed by a string of curses in English, German, French, and Japanese. Smiling to herself, she rapped on the door. An exasperated "Just a minute!" came as her answer. After a few more multilingual curses and another loud 'thump', the door opened to reveal a shock of mussed black hair framing a flushed Asian face; a face that lit up with surprise at his visitor. "Seras? What the heck are you doing here?" "Kev?" Victoria was apparently just as surprised. "You told me you couldn't cook." "W-Well, I can't." Seras inhaled deeply, ignoring the smell of shock and surprise coming off of the startled intern. "Then what is making that wonderful smell?" Kevin massaged the back of his neck. "Well, I'm just trying to make some breakfast. You want some?"  
  
Another Author's Note: I'm kinda playing around with pairing ideas (STRAIGHT pairings, that is), and I'm really not sure how this will go. On another note, I haven't been hired to counter the crazy Paladin; I'm only supposed to be a defense against him, since firearms don't seem to be very effective against him. One final thing, I am confidant that dhampires (human/vampire halfbreeds for those out of the loop) will play a major role in the plot to come. Oh and yes, I DO know how to curse in German (many thanks to a certain redhead EVA pilot), Japanese, and French. 


	4. Bodyguard Boot Camp

The Interview  
Chap. III  
Bodyguard Boot Camp  
  
The Journal of Kevin Chin September 23, 2006 - 7:02 AM  
  
Admittedly, I have never really been much of a morning person, but I manage somehow. Lt. Victoria surprised me this morning by having breakfast with me. Actually, she surprised me in two ways. First, when I first ran into her in Oxford, I didn't think she was the type for action, much less hunting the undead. Secondly, I find that she is my direct superior! She tells me not to worry and hands me the schedule that Walter mentioned last night. Great; I get to play 'Stick the Intern' with Sir 'Stiff' Hellsing in a half hour and lunch break isn't until after two in the afternoon. Well, I guess I should have remembered the phrase 'you pay for what you get', although my 'payments' are going to be in physical discomfort, I can tell.  
  
2:07 PM  
  
I didn't think she would teach me fencing! I am certainly no fighter and even I know that a fencing foil is close to useless on the battlefield, especially the modern battlefield. As I write this, I am also trying to eat a PB&J sandwich and hold an icepack to my cheek where Sir Hellsing swatted me with her foil. THAT HURT, DANGIT!! Anyways, I can hear that arrogant prick Pip laughing his head off at me from Sir Hellsing's office; I had the distinct displeasure of meeting him earlier. I can also swear that I can hear another laugh with Pip's, a low sinister laugh that puts me on edge. Must be that 'prime operative' Walter mentioned. I don't care who this guy is; I just want him to leave me alone. I look down at my schedule again; oh joy, History of the Undead and Vampirism. Personally, I don't like to stick it (pardon the pun) to the undead just because they are 'unholy', or so says the Church. I seriously feel like the odd one out in this Institution, especially since everyone else is Christian. Well, at least no-one is Muslim.  
  
4:38 PM  
  
I usually dislike history lessons. I suppose I relatively enjoyed this one because the main subject was vampires and other children of the night. At least Seras was there; that made me feel somewhat better. There are still tests, though. Ugh. Well, I guess I shouldn't complain; I could be taking a class in musical history. I'd be out like a light. Anyway, I get out of the lesion and now I get to meet this 'prime operative' I keep hearing about. Seras keeps saying something about her 'Master'; I'm not really sure I want to know. But she can read people well enough I suppose; if she had been nervous about me meeting this 'operative' then I'd be a bit more hesitant. I am being led down deep beneath the basement of the manor into what looks like some dungeon or safe house. Sir Hellsing keeps muttering something about an "annoying undead prick". Needless, I'm a little unsettled. [I agree, young one; it's about time we met.] I must have jumped three feet in the air at that, because Sir Hellsing gave me her 'Evil Eye', or at least that's what Seras calls it. She says that she wouldn't even look at me if she wasn't pleased with me. Whatever. Anyways, we finally get to a door with an inverted pentagram that looks like Jackson Pollock used fresh blood to paint it. Sir Hellsing opened the door and entered the room, which held little more than a coffin at the far end. A coffin? Wait a sec; coffin, Hellsing? I've read Bram Stoker's Dracula before, and wasn't Dr. Abraham Van Hellsing in said novel. That same voice can be heard from the far side of the room. "Well met, young American." I must have passed out or something because I woke up in my room, which is where I'm signing off for today. If I get through this, I'm gonna need a hell of a shrink. 


	5. The First Mission: Part One

The Interview  
Chap. IVa  
The First Mission: Part One  
  
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Hellsing, or anything related to Hellsing  
  
September 24th turned out to be a warm sunny day; a perfect day for a first mission. Kevin groaned as he sluggishly boarded the transport vehicle. Half-asleep, he plopped down in his seat. Pip made a sharp comment about his being lazy because he was only semi-awake first day on the job. "Oh knock it off; he's only been here two days, Pip." Kevin brought his head up to the smiling face of Seras Victoria. "If there's anyone with a right to insult him it's me, as he is my subordinate. And personally, I can't find any fault so far for only two day's experience."  
  
The young man rubbed his eyes to get the last bits of sleeping sand out of his eyes, mindful of the pair of curved blades he was holding. "So I guess I really am a part of this community now, aren't I?" he asked sleepily. "Well, there's a running joke with the others that I you can survive your first three encounters with Sir Integra, that you're going to be very successful here. What's so funny?" Kevin was lightly chuckling to himself. "Sorry, it's just that I imagined myself at an art college or some kind of liberal arts center, not a paramilitary organization hunting the Children of the Night and squaring off against the Vatican." Seras gave him a sheepish smile. "Well, I would guess that things around this organization would be very different from that of an art school," she said sighing, "and I know that this isn't really what you expected." Kevin shrugged, his messy black bangs covering his eyes. "Well, it's not really anything that I'm not used to. I can live with it." "But will you like it?" Kevin looked up at Seras to find a concerned expression set on her face. "You do know that, despite a few individuals," she said, throwing a glare at Pip, "we feel that you are a part of a community." "Yeah, whatever that means," Kevin scoffed. "Look, I know you're new here, but that doesn't mean you can just snap at anyone you know," said Seras, a sliver of irritation in her voice. "So I'm cynical. What else is new? In the past two years, I haven't been able to hold a decent job, been kicked out of six dorms, and have been an all-around nomad. I think I have a right to be a little jaded," he retorted. "Well, you have a stable home, don't you?" He gave her an uncertain look. "Well, yeah," "And you have a well paying job." "But. . ." "No 'buts' mister," said Seras, poking Kevin in the chest. "And there are people who appreciate your efforts." "No offense or anything Sera, but are you trying to pull my leg?" Seras found that she couldn't answer immediately. "No" "No what?" Another half-hour had passed and Kevin had taken a catnap. "No, I wasn't trying to pull your leg." Kevin gave Seras a look that clearly said 'I don't believe you'. "As hard as this may be to believe, there are many people that appreciate your changing your entire lifestyle to do this. For one thing, Sir Integra does, 'though she probably doesn't show it. Pip appreciates it, and his ribbing you is a sign of that I think. Walter certainly appreciates your being here, as you seem to make him feel like a grandfather. Most of all, I appreciate what you're doing." "What do you mean?" asked Kevin, confused. "There is this Italian paladin who is what is known as a 'sword dancer', and he almost killed me the last time we met," she said with a nostalgic sigh. "Since firearms don't seem to stop him, you with your swords are my bodyguard." Kevin still didn't look convinced. "What I'm trying to say that I feel that you're a part of us. You may not know it, but you've livened up the Manor a great deal with your rather erratic behavior. You're doing a great service to this organization and to me especially. And since you're a part of our community, all of us are responsible for your well-being, well as much as you can have while hunting vampires and such." Then Kevin unexpectedly smirked. "So, that means I'm going to have to change my name to Hellsing now?" The tension in the truck vanished as almost everyone who overheard the conversation burst out laughing.  
  
Author's Note: Sorry it's taking so long, but home matters came up. This is only the first part of the first mission, so the second part should be where Kevin meets out favorite hack-happy paladin. 


	6. First Mission Part II

The Interview  
Chapter IVb  
The First Mission: Part II Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing, yadda yadda.  
  
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Kevin sighed in obvious contentment and exhaustion as he sat back in the hot tub. 'That is an experience I DON'T want to repeat anytime soon,' he thought to himself.  
  
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The platoon had unloaded at Canterbury of all places. While feeling marginally better than before, Kevin had that nauseous feeling in his gut that things weren't going to stay as planned. "Don't worry, Kev. Things will turn out fine," said Seras as she stepped out of the truck with a long box. "Then I'll be able to show you what Hellsing really does." Setting the box down, she opened it and retrieved what looked like an old Bofors. "What the heck IS that?!" said Kevin. "Oh this? This is my Halconnen rifle." Kevin stared at it in shock. "B...but what the heck are you gonna use that thing for?" The greenhorn swordsman thought for a moment. "Wouldn't you use something like that to bless a tank?" Seras raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" "You put holes in a tank with that thing. Holey, bless, get it?" Judging by the look on her face, the vampiress was not amused. "I guess you'll never lose that bad humor, Chin." 'Ow.'  
  
"So what am I supposed to do again?" "Just watch us, Chin, and make yourself useful when appropriate," said Seras in a confidant tone. Kevin had only been to the top of one cathedral before, so sitting beside Seras above the West Portal of Canterbury Cathedral was a little unnerving. Especially since night had fallen while they were in transit. Kevin suddenly felt a tingle on the back of his neck. "Seras, I think there's something coming." "Not now!" The Halconnen was up on its bipod as Seras had a running figure barely in Kevin's visual range lined up. The figure then fell and disintegrated. "You know Kevin, maybe you were right." Kevin drew his blade as Seras readied the massive rifle to go. A rushing of paper froze Seras in her tracks. "Ah dunt think ye'll be goin' anywhere, abomination." "I know I should watch my language," said Kevin, "but...oh, shiesse."  
  
"Seras get out of here!" The clash of steel on steel tore through the otherwise peaceful night. "But you were supposed to have another month's training before going anywhere near him!" Kevin was being forced back step by step as Alexander Anderson pressed his attack, both men's blades ringing like a bell chorus. 'Well then, I'll just have to learn quickly,' he grimly thought to himself. 'Well, let's compare: Anderson has years of experience versus my two days. He has two short blades while I have a single longsword. The paladin is bigger than me, but I have a slight edge in agility. Finally, he has more stamina than I do. Looks like I'll have to play Ring-Around-The-Holy-Man.' With that, Kevin rolled to the side into a crouch. 'Thank God for Soul Calibur tactics,' he thought to himself as he swiped at Anderson's legs. Surprisingly enough, the paladin was caught off-guard by the move and was swept off his feet by the strike. "Let's scat!"  
  
Panting heavily, both Seras and Kevin stopped at a public phone booth to rest. "I...don't...want...to do...that...again," Kevin wheezed. Seras nodded, her gasping as a result, however, of fright rather than exertion. "Agent Victoria, report!" came a tinny voice over Seras' headset. "Anderson happened, Sir Hellsing. He silenced the target then came after us. I haven't heard from any of the squad leaders yet." "Retreat to the extraction point and await further orders. Hellsing out." Vampire and human looked at each other. "Right. Shall we...get going now?" asked a winded Kevin.  
  
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"Well, I would like to say that you handled your first encounter with Paladin Anderson quite well Mr. Chin." 'Thank you, ma'am." Kevin stood stiffly and fought down the urge to scratch at his itchy formal uniform as he received his post-mission commendation. "A cool head under pressure..." 'Cool like Hell, anyways,' Kevin thought to himself. "...great courage and skill in the field..." 'Courage? I practically messed myself out there!' "...and devotion to duty. Walter?" The tall butler gave Integra a slight bow before turning to Kevin and pinning something on his collar. "Congratulations Kevin, or should I say 2nd Lieutenant Chin?" said the older man, a smile on his face.  
  
A "Bofors" is a model of anti-aircraft artillery used extensively in WWII. It shot 40mm shells fairly rapidly and was very accurate considering its purpose.  
  
A/N: Well that's my first mission. I survived the Anderson Test!! R&R!!! 


End file.
